


The Ribbon

by mmouse15



Series: Love in Small Steps [6]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-27
Updated: 2008-05-27
Packaged: 2019-02-01 22:22:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12714009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmouse15/pseuds/mmouse15
Summary: In May of 2008, the ProwlxJazz community on Livejournal had a challenge, where touch and six fabrics were the prompts. Each story in the series is one of the fabrics. This is satin.





	The Ribbon

Title: The Ribbon (Satin)  
Series: Love in Small Steps  
By: mmouse15  
Rating: R  
Word Count: 2200  
Pairing: Prowl/Jazz  
Author's Notes: This is entry #6 for the May 08 challenge on the ProwlxJazz comm on LJ.

 

Jazz stood straight and proud, checking his line of troops. They were all in line and looked eager to greet their comrades from Earth. Jazz could certainly understand their feelings. He was ready to see Prowl again, but he knew they would have to go through all the formalities of welcoming the new troops and updating various officers on the situations of Earth and Cybertron. He snapped to attention as the ramp lowered from the shuttle. The first mechs strode out and stopped in front of Optimus Prime.  
"SIC Autobot Prowl, reporting for duty, sir!" Prowl rapped out.  
"Excellent, Prowl, welcome to Moon Base 1. We're glad to have you with us finally. How is Autobot City?" Optimus turned toward the base entrance, and Prowl fell into step beside him.  
"It's fine, sir. Ultra Magnus has command now, and they have a good stock of energon." Prowl's voice trailed off as they entered the base. Jazz pulled his attention back to the shuttle and watched as the remainder of the Autobots joining them from Earth came down the ramp.

Prowl remained closeted with the Prime for joors, updating him on the status of Earth's resources, Autobot City, the broken transformation cog of Metroplex, his impressions of the mechs that had come to Earth with Ultra Magnus and his thoughts for the future. Optimus updated the tactician on the current situation on Cybertron and the mental state of the Autobots on the moon bases.  
"Well, Prowl, I suppose I should let you get to your quarters and rest. Tomorrow will be soon enough to start planning the new campaign against the Decepticons." Optimus told him.  
"Sir, I just…" Prowl stopped when Optimus raised a hand.  
"If I don't let you go soon, I'm going to have to deal with Jazz and frankly, I'd rather not do that. So off you go." Optimus made shooing motions with his hands, causing Prowl to laugh.  
"Yes, I suppose he's eager."  
"I think eager is too mild a word for what Jazz is feeling. He's been practically vibrating since we got word you were coming." Optimus chuckled.  
"Alright, sir. My quarters are located…where?" Prowl stood and moved toward the door.  
"Jazz will show you." As the door slid open, Jazz stood from the bench just outside where he'd been waiting. "Have fun!" Prime waved them off.  
Prowl stepped up to Jazz and spoke, "I…would you please show me to my quarters?"  
The saboteur looked taken aback until he made optic contact with the tactician. Prowl was barely holding himself together, and if he and Jazz touched, they would never make it to a private place. Jazz stepped back and answered, "Certainly. Please follow me."  
The tactician swung in behind him as Jazz strode quickly down the hallways. They soon entered the sleeping area of the small base, and Jazz stopped by a non-descript doorway and typed in a code, standing aside to let Prowl enter first. The tactician stepped through the doorway and turned as Jazz followed him in.  
The quarters belonged to Jazz. His collection of Earth treasures was displayed on a shelf over a small desk, and the sound equipment could only belong to the saboteur, since Blaster was still on Earth. Prowl saw all this in a moment before he was swept into a fierce embrace and kissed hard. He flowed into the arms holding him, returning the kiss with fervor and verve, stroking his hands over the form of his beloved and reacquainting himself with the sensitive areas on the saboteur's body. Jazz groaned and moved closer, sweeping his hands over Prowl's back and doorwings, causing the tactician to arch into him.  
Prowl suddenly broke the embrace, stepping back and panting to help his cooling systems. Jazz whimpered and tried to resume, stopped by Prowl's hands on his shoulders.  
"Wait. Please." Prowl was shuddering, fighting for control. Jazz reached out to stroke Prowl's chest and had his hand captured by the tactician.  
"Prowler, please, I'm dying for ya." Jazz whispered.  
"Jazz, did you mean what you said?" Prowl asked, pulling Jazz into his arms.  
"Which bit, Prowl?" Jazz nuzzled close, basking in the closeness of his lover.  
"About bonding." A silence descending upon the room, broken only by the air moving through their vents to cool their systems.  
Jazz cupped Prowl's face in his hands and leaned forward until there was was only a whisper of room between their lips, "Yes, I meant it." He kissed Prowl gently, sweetly, with all the love in his Spark. Prowl kissed him back, then changed the kiss to gentle pecks, answering him back, "Then let's do it."  
And no more words were spoken for a very long time.

Before Jazz unshuttered his optics from recharge, he reveled in the feeling of Prowl in his Spark. Being bonded was, perhaps, going to take some adjustment, but he was very happy right now and basked in the feeling of completeness that suffused his awareness. A tickle of humor trickled into the bond, and he finally opened his optics to see Prowl smiling down on him.  
"Morning, gorgeous." Jazz laughed up at him, joy suffusing them both.  
"Good morning. Would you like your present now?" Prowl replied.  
"Ooo, presents? Yes, please!" Jazz sat up, as eager as a child on Christmas. Prowl handed him a rectangular flat package, pleasingly wrapped in a long satin ribbon that had been wound around the gift inside and tied in a bow. Jazz pulled the end of the bow and unwound the ribbon, revealing a photograph of he and Prowl taken at the farewell party months ago on Earth. Whoever had taken the shot had caught the moment when they had optics only for the other. Jazz smiled and set the photo on the shelf above the berth.  
"Sparkplug managed to get that shot, and gave the photograph to me. I thought you would like to have it." Prowl told him.  
Jazz was playing with the ribbon, running it through his fingers. "It's great to have it, but is that all of my present?"  
Prowl was confused, "Well, yes, what else would there be?"  
In answer, Jazz looped the ribbon around Prowl's neck and tied it in a bow, then walked his fingers up Prowl's hood toward the knot of the bow. "I don't know, Prowler, what else could you possibly give me?"  
Prowl slowly leaned back as Jazz moved over him, playing with the ends of the ribbon. "Uh…oh…um, I don't know, Jazz. Haven't I already given you myself?"  
Jazz had moved over him far enough to kiss him, then he said, "Yes, but what if I want you again?"  
Prowl's systems were heating, and the feeling of love and lust coming through the bond were making it difficult for him to concentrate enough to answer, but he wrenched his attention back and replied, "Then you can have me again."  
Jazz smiled and Prowl's vents hitched at the predatory look in his optics. Gently, the bond closed off and the saboteur whispered, "Close your optics and let me unwrap my present."  
Prowl shuttered his optics, relaxing back against the berth as Jazz moved down his body.  
"First, I want to look it over and make sure there's no damage." The black hands moved gently over Prowl's legs, stroking over the outsides to his ankle joints, then up the insides to his knees, carefully investigating the sensitive joints for a few moments, then continuing their journey up to the curves of his hips. Jazz used his thumbs to stimulate the sensors of Prowl's hip armor, moving in toward the arrow in the center of the armor. It was one of Jazz's favorite places to tease, and this time was no different as his hands met in the center of the black armor and began stroking the arrow. Prowl couldn't help but arch into the touch, groaning as he did. Too soon, Jazz continued up Prowl's body, moving over the thinner plating of his abdomen to bottom of his alt-form hood. He spent a lot of time there, stroking over headlights and running lights, causing Prowl to writhe on the berth. The saboteur moved to the top of the hood where the ends of the ribbon were within reach. Jazz spent a few moments straightening the ribbon, then moved over the mounts where Prowl's shoulder mounted rockets would attach. Without the rockets there, Prowl's mounts would become extremely sensitive to touch, and Jazz spent many moments there , stroking over each one until Prowl was moaning beneath him. The saboteur then moved to Prowl's helm, gently moving his fingertips over Prowl's audios and the edges of his helm, finally reaching his chevron and stroking a fingertip over the front, starting at one tip and moving down to the center, then up to the other tip. Prowl was quivering, his vocalizer crackling with static as the tactician fought to hold off his overload. Jazz moved his fingers over Prowl's face, gently caressing the features of his lover, then moving over his chin to the knot nestled at the base of his throat.  
"Hm, everything looks to be undamaged and in fine order. Now I can unwrap you and make sure." Jazz grasped one end of the ribbon, pulling on it. The loop of the bow slowly got smaller as Jazz pulled on the end. The tugging against the cables of his neck had Prowl writhing, his body so charged from what Jazz had been doing that the feel of the satin was almost too much. The loop finally pulled through the knot, and Jazz moved to the other end of the ribbon, slowly pulling on it but this time, he kept the ribbon against Prowl's hood and the slide of the satin was finally too much. Prowl howled as the energy in his body finally reached maximum capacity and slammed through him. Jazz threw open the bond and cascaded into his own overload, which looped back into Prowl, causing another peak. Prowl's overwhelmed systems shut down and he knew no more.

"Prowl?" The query went through his audios and his processor at the same time. He moaned softly, but responded.  
"Hm?"  
"I like my presents very much." Jazz told him, good humor shining through the bond.  
Prowl opened his optics and cocked a ridge at him. "I'm glad, but it doesn't look like you've finished unwrapping me." The ribbon was still around his neck, the ends draped over his shoulder mounts.  
"True, but Optimus just pinged me and told me that you have a meeting in two breems, and I'd better refuel you and let you get to work."  
"Ack!" Prowl shot up and swung his legs over the berth, standing and starting to move to the door.  
"Prowl, wait!" Jazz shot after him.  
"I can't. I need to find my office and get organized." Prowl continued to move. Jazz planted himself firmly in front of him.  
"Yes, but I can help. Your office is right next to mine, and I know my way around. Besides, I don't think you want anyone to see you like this," The saboteur told him.  
"See me like what?" The tactician was confused.  
Jazz reached up and finished removing the ribbon, wrapping it around his hand and throwing the bundle of satin toward the desk.  
"See what wonderful presents you bring me."  
Prowl laughed, jostled into a better humor by the love and joy bleeding through the bond from his mate.  
"Alright, oh happy one. Lead on." They exited their quarters, preparing for a long day but reveling in the closeness that bound them forever.

The End.

As a bonus, I'm including the original version of this story that struck me right after made the challenge. I woke up crying with this story already complete in my head and crawled out of bed at 4 AM to write it. It turned out to be too sad and too short for the story arc that developed, but I thought it was beautiful and I hate to lose it. And I hate TF:TM. Can I just ignore that it ever happened?

_Jazz ran his fingers over the ribbon. He'd done this so many times the ribbon was starting to wear thin, but Jazz couldn't stop touching it. This time, he ran the tips of his fingers over the knurled edge, feeling the indentations of the stitches that kept the edge from fraying._  
_How was he supposed to go on? How was he supposed to deal with this…emptiness? Once again running his fingers over the ribbon, he mourned. Prowl was gone and his world was empty. Once again, his loss resonated deep in his Spark, searching for the other half of itself and finding nothing. Bringing the ribbon to his face, he gently ran it over his lips, wishing it were Prowl's lips, the ribbon a poor substitute for his real desire. It was what he had left, the ribbon had been carefully wrapped around the last gift Prowl had given him, a last touch between them before…before the shuttle run to disaster and loss._  
_Jazz ran the ribbon through his fingers again then curled up, stroking his thumb over the heavy satin. He would continue to do this until he fell into an uneasy recharge, his grief giving him no respite._  
_He missed Prowl._


End file.
